


Close Quarters

by Immicolia



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shadowrun Fusion, M/M, Minor Violence, Vrains Rare Pair Week 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 18:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17208341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immicolia/pseuds/Immicolia
Summary: Shadowrun AU. Akira gets extracted from a bad situation at SOL, Shoichi is the wheelman, and neither of them are happy about this. At least not at first.For Vrains Rare Pair Weeks, Day 7 / Dec 29 - Other Fandom AU





	Close Quarters

**Author's Note:**

> Of course I did Shadowrun for this. Of course I did. Vrains is already the YGO Shadowrun AU of my heart, I may as well go all the way.
> 
> Also Jin wound up showing up in here because apparently I can't leave that kind of nonsense alone?

The truck Ema bundled him into after extracting him from SOL's clutches smelled like cigarettes and soykaf. An overpowering combination that gave Akira a headache at first, but one he is slowly getting used to.

What he can't quite get used to is Kusanagi.

"It's only for a few days," Ema insisted before she ran back out into the night. "Until I can find us a decent safehouse it's better that you stay somewhere mobile. Don't want SOL snatching you back after I went to all this trouble to get you out of there, now do you?"

The logic is sound. Back when he was still running the shadows (before SOL, before he decided that a stable life for himself and Aoi was more important than his soul) Akira had helped make the same kind of call during extraction jobs and otherwise. Until you're absolutely sure that you have a safe place to hole up, keep on the move. It makes you harder to hit.

But even if it makes perfect sense he doesn't have to like it. His protests loud and clear, not that Ema cared at the time. She simply laughed and kissed him on the cheek. Slipping out of the truck with a wave and a far too cheerful declaration of, "Behave, boys. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," and leaving him alone with Shoichi Kusanagi.

Kusanagi's connection to the shadows is tenuous at best. He's not a shadowrunner --never has been, he doesn't even have a street name -- or a fixer or anything that fits cleanly into that world. At best he's a freelance hacker who specializes in information gathering and plays wheelman once in a while like he did for Ema on this occasion. A distance from what is normal for this line of work that likely explains why he's no happier about Akira's presence in his truck than Akira is.

"I'm only doing this because she's been helping Playmaker lately and I figure I owe her one," Kusanagi says after the first tense hour of forced cohabitation.

"What's your connection to him?" The question slips free before Akira can stop it and Kusanagi's frown deepens.

"None of your business, that's what it is."

"There's only one thing Playmaker cares about and that's the Lost Incident," Akira shoots back. It's not like he has anything to lose by pushing. Kusanagi already doesn't like him but isn't inclined to kick him out of the truck due to whatever nebulous deal he's made with Ema. And information will always be power. "You can't blame me for wondering how you fit into that."

Kusanagi says nothing and after a few moments of icy silence Akira adds, "I could probably find out on my own if I tried."

"That a threat?"

"More like a promise."

"God, I can't wait until Ema drags your ass out of here and out of my hair." Kusanagi sighs, scrubbing his hands down his face. Although he does add, "I know one of the victims. Playmaker and I were going after the same information and that's how we met. That's all I'm giving you."

"I figured as much."

 

The strike comes late on the second evening. The team that rushes the truck a small one and Akira recognizes the pair of street sams closing in as the ones that he hired for SOL alongside Go (before SOL went and melted the man's brain). That's all he manages to catch before the truck roars to life and peels out. Kusanagi jumped in and controlling it like an extension of himself as he manoeuvres through narrow alleyways with a deftness that Akira can't quite wrap his head around.

The decker that tries to force the truck to stop is expected. The fact that they're almost good enough to succeed, the truck briefly careening towards a wall before Kusanagi manages to wrench it back under control, is worrying enough to force Akira into action himself.

It takes thirty seconds to overwrite the permissions on one of the spare cyberdecks lying around. Thirty breathless seconds where the truck keeps dangerously swerving from side to side and if he looks past the lines of code that run up the side of his AR feed Akira can see the strain on Kusanagi's face as he tries to both fight off the digital attack and keep them on the road. Then reality fully slips away and all that matters is finding the source of the interference.

It's not as difficult to trace as Akira thought it would be and he wonders if the decker is a fresh hire. Despite their talent they're careless. So intent on trying to crash the truck that they don't notice Akira until it's too late and their own cyberdeck is hammered so hard that it's rendered a paperweight.

When he decides that there are no further threats coming from the matrix and it's safe to slip back out and into reality the truck is parked and dead silent. Kusanagi's face just barely visible in the dim light, his expression pinched and exhausted as he blots at the blood dripping from his nose.

"I'd say 'thanks', but given that this happened entirely because you're here the best I can do is, 'thanks for pulling your weight.'"

"That's not very professional," Akira shoots back and Kusanagi shrugs.

"Good thing I'm not actually a professional. Like I told you, I'm just doing Ema a favour. And given that my head is killing me after that mess, I'm not in the mood to coddle you."

Akira opens his mouth to retort. Something along the lines of, "I don't expect to be coddled but some courtesy would be nice," but Kusanagi has already turned away. His eyes fixed on his comlink and it's obvious from the half of the conversation Akira can hear that he's giving Ema an update.

"Some very pushy friends of your friend showed up. Nah, it's fine. I've seen worse. We might have to postpone that get together for a bit though. Don't want any uninvited guests showing up. Yea. Yea, I'll keep in touch."

A sigh, deeply exhausted and frustrated, slips past Kusanagi's lips as he tosses his comlink back onto the console. One hand pinching at the bridge of his nose for a moment, likely a vain attempt to relieve whatever pressure is building there before he turns back towards Akira.

"Any idea how we might have been compromised?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. Ema and I did a full sweep for bugs, RFID tags, GPS trackers, the whole gamut before we got anywhere near your truck. I should be clean. If there's a leak it could very well be from your end given how _not professional_ you are."

Kusanagi goes tense, his eyes coldly furious, but he doesn't rise to the bait. "Wherever it came from, it means we get to be _pals_ for a little while longer."

Akira just smiles. His expression a well practiced mixture of false pleasantness and pure contempt that three years living a corp life have drilled into him.

 

He finds out about Kusanagi's brother by accident. Or maybe it was intentional on the part of said brother, not that Akira can guess at the motivations behind any of it. All he knows for certain is that the call came in and hijacked every screen in the truck. Lighting each one up with a soft white glow and an image of a teenage boy (that image nothing more than a carefully constructed matrix persona he finds out later) and Kusanagi went stiff and silent the moment it happened.

"Hello brother." The voice that comes through the speakers is soft and without emotion, a sharp contrast to the harsh, almost agonized, rasp that is Kusanagi's reply.

"You couldn't have picked a worse time, Jin."

"I was informed this was the perfect time. How are you?"

"You know I'm not interested in small talk, especially when I'm not even sure if it's really you talking. When are you coming home?"

"I am home. This could be your home too if you want. Lightning is more than willing to welcome you."

Kusanagi flinches and his thumb slams down on the button to cut the call. Not that it stops and the expression of the boy on screen shifts, just barely, to the mildest sort of disappointment. "You know that doesn't work, brother. Why can't you just accept that I'm happy here? This is the meaning I needed in my life after everything that's happened."

The pain on Kusanagi's face is raw enough that Akira wishes there was somewhere else he could go. This is too personal, too private, to be witnessed by any outside party but there's nowhere to escape to. No way to give Kusanagi the space he deserves. All he can do is sit and bear witness to an agony that reminds him all too much of how he felt when the Knights of Hanoi had briefly wrapped their claws around Aoi.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" the image on screen prods and the raw sorrow creasing Kusanagi's face gives way to a manic sort of smile. Sharp and vicious as he barks out a laugh.

"There's nothing _to_ say, Jin. I don't believe you genuinely want this and I'm going to bring you home. It doesn't matter how many times Lightning hijacks my equipment to wave you in front of my face. You're not, _he's_ not, going to change my mind."

"That's a shame. If you keep fighting you're only going to get hurt. And I don't want to see you hurt."

The screens go dark, a thick silence settling over the truck's interior and all but pressing down against Akira's chest as his mind races over everything he just heard. His voice tight and close to a harsh whisper when he finally speaks.

"Lightning is the name of one of the AIs that resulted from the Lost Incident."

Kusanagi almost falls out of his chair he turns so quickly to face Akira, the surprise on his face enough to show that he had completely forgotten about the other man's presence. It only takes a moment for him to recover though, his expression cold and hard as he bites out, "I'm not getting into this. Not right now and not with you."

"Fair enough. But I am going to make my own assumptions regardless of whether or not we discuss it."

Kusanagi's only response is to mutter about needing a drink as he tries to put as much space between himself and Akira as possible despite the cramped quarters.

 

The next day is spent with Kusanagi on the edge of wasted and Akira makes a sharp remark about how he hopes SOL doesn't manage to track them down again. "If they come after us we won't have to worry about a decker trying to crash the truck, you'd likely do it all on your own considering the state you're in."

Kusanagi just laughs and takes a quick pull from the bottle he's nursing, something cheap and synthetic it looks like but good enough to render him next to useless, before replying. "'s fine. I'm awakened, I know a detox spell."

That declaration is a surprise. People that are magically active tend to nurture those skills, they don't get headware installed and become decker/riggers like Kusanagi seems to be. Not that Akira gives any indication of how shocked he is, instead carefully filing that revelation (that he gets the feeling Kusanagi never would have let slip if he'd been sober) away.

"Can you even cast it in your state?"

"I'm pretty sure detox was designed to be cast while hammered."

Akira makes a vaguely interested noise in response, wondering what other information he can carefully prod out of Kusanagi in this state (maybe he could find out more about this nebulous brother) when Kusanagi surprises him with a statement of his own, "Your sister. She found one of those AIs."

It's enough to throw Akira off balance and he wonders if Kusanagi is more alert right now than he's giving him credit for. "So Ema's told me. She hasn't been speaking to me lately. I assume you know because she's working with Playmaker now too?"

A slow nod and another pull from the bottle he's holding is Kusanagi's response. His eyes half-lidded as he studies Akira's face. "How much do you know?"

"About?"

"Any of it? The Lost Incident?"

"When it comes to that I only know what was in SOL's files." A rueful smirk touches Akira's lips. "Which Playmaker got access to so you likely know as much as I do. Kogami seemed to be chasing the same 'perfect matrix entity' goal that Halberstam was back in the '50s and used similar methods. Although there's a rumour that the kids Kogami used all wound up being technomancers."

A muscle in Kusanagi's jaw jumps, his teeth clenched so tight, and that is enough to confirm Akira's suspicion. "Your brother was one of the six, wasn't he? That's why he's with Lightning right now. That AI--"

"Emerged from exposure to him." The words are barely above a whisper, Kusanagi's eyes focused on the mouth of the bottle he's still cradling. "Not that I could tell you if he's a techno or not. He didn't seem to be when he was taken, and when he came back...."

The sound that tears its way out of Kusanagi's throat is a mangled combination of a bitter laugh and something that might be a sob. That same sensation from the night before -- the creeping uneasiness that screams he's seeing something he shouldn't -- worming its way into Akira's gut to leave him cold and uneasy. His own words low and carefully chosen as he says, "You don't have to talk about this."

"I know. I _shouldn't_ talk about it either but..." He shrugs and moves to take another drink, frowning once the bottle touches his lips and eventually letting it drop, clearly empty, to the floor. "Ema thinks you can help us."

"Two days ago I might have agreed with her on that. Then I at the very least still had my position at SOL. But now?"

"Yea, well it's not like I agreed with her either."

Silence falls, tense and uneasy. Turning the atmosphere in the cramped truck into something breathless and after a few strained moments Akira mumbles something about catching some sleep and retreats to one of the corners. Leaving Kusanagi to his troubled thoughts.

 

The most baffling thing is the fact that SOL doesn't give up after the first failed attempt to retrieve (or eliminate, Akira honestly isn't sure which they're aiming for and certainly doesn't want to find out) him. A second strike team comes on the fourth day. A third another two days after that. Each one ultimately evaded, although it's closer and closer each time. The last encounter resulting in a bullet lodged in Kusanagi's arm, it somehow having managed to puncture both the side of the truck and the man's armored jacket.

"I never thought I'd need to invest in any kind of heavy-duty plating for this thing." There's an awkward sort of levity in Kusanagi's tone as he unplugs himself from the truck's control rig once it seems like they're in the clear. An edgy sort of cheer that would almost work if it weren't for how forced it sounds. "Don't suppose you could grab a medkit for me?"

Akira nods and a tense silence falls as he retrieves the kit from one of the storage compartments and gets to work. It's a cheap model, likely picked up at a convenience store "just in case", but decent enough that it's capable of monitoring vital signs and after a few moments it makes its assessment of Kusanagi's current state. Results displayed on the small screen as it lets out a cheerful beep and Akira follows the directions that are given. His every movement familiar to the point of almost being unconscious, despite the fact that it's been years. Akira has patched up more than enough bullet wounds and ones far worse than this, his hands careful and steady as he finishes and smoothes a bandage against Kusanagi's skin.

Kusanagi is quiet through the process. His eyes tightly shut, likely in an attempt to tune out the pain, and as Akira starts to move away Kusanagi grabs one of his hands. Squeezing it tight.

"So does that make for two I owe you now?"

Kusanagi's tone, his expression, everything, is unreadable and Akira hesitates. His eyes fixed on the line of Kusanagi's knuckles, pale save for the odd smudge of blood, on top of his own hand.

"We'll call it one, if that," Akira replies, trying his best to cover the unsteadiness creeping into his voice. "You wouldn't be dealing with this if Ema hadn't pulled you into my mess."

"True. Although given some of the stuff I've been digging into lately I might have to get used to this sort of thing."

"Like bullet wounds?"

"And running from corporate strike teams. And god knows what else."

For the first time since they met Kusanagi flashes a genuine grin. The expression a little exhausted and entirely self-depreciating and something in Akira's chest stutters at the sight.

It's adrenaline he tells himself. Adrenaline and too much time spent in close quarters. They'd both come dangerously close to dying this time, the bullet in Kusanagi's arm only punctuating that particular point. And when someone brushes that close to death he likes to remember he's alive.

That's the only reason. The only reason Akira leans in and presses a clumsy kiss to the corner of that grinning mouth.

For a moment Kusanagi goes still. His expression entirely baffled and there is an apology on the tip of Akira's tongue. It's the only thing that can really be said. The only thing that makes sense after something so outright embarrassing.

"We're both on edge," Kusanagi says before Akira has a chance to offer that apology though. Akira nodding in response and he swallows a few times in an attempt to get his tongue unstuck.

"We are."

"This whole thing is a lot more dangerous than I thought it would be when Ema asked me for help."

"Honestly? Likewise. I figured I was unimportant enough that SOL would have given up after a token retrieval attempt."

"So." Kusanagi pauses for a moment, his fingers flexing and Akira suddenly realizes that their hands are still linked. "I get it. And I don't want to think much more about it. Not right now."

Akira nods, wondering if he should move away when Kusanagi shifts slightly. His head resting against Akira's shoulder and his voice is an absent murmur.

"Right now I just want to sleep."

There's no further discussion after that. Just the steady pressure of Kusanagi's body leaning against his as the man nods off.

 

The call from Ema comes a few hours later, waking them both from a fitful sleep and Kusanagi's voice is hoarse as he says, "I'm putting you on speaker. What's up?"

"Don't you 'what's up?' me. Are you two okay? I just heard there was another 'incident'."

"We're both fine. Although it would be great if you could come up with that place to stay sooner than later, it looks like our friends aren't about to give up as easily as I thought and I'm not quite equipped to handle how aggressive they're getting."

Ema sighs. "I suppose. I'll send you an address. Be careful."

The call ends and after a moment (Kusanagi flipping through a few AR windows that only he can see) he turns to face Akira, expression carefully blank.

"I guess you're back to being Ema's problem now."

"I suppose so."

Silence falls, Kusanagi not making the slightest movement to start the truck and Akira's head tilts to the side. "Is there a problem?"

The silence stretches on for a few more moments before Kusanagi's shoulders move in a twitchy shrug. His expression almost bashful. "I guess I was starting to get used to this."

"If it makes you feel any better, you'll probably have to put up with me again at some point. I haven't decided on any concrete plans yet, but odds are good I'll be working with Ema."

"So I'll never be rid of you."

"Not entirely."

"Then I suppose I should offload you before we both wind up dead." He smiles. The same genuine grin that had left Akira a little bit breathless earlier in the evening, except this time Kusanagi is the one to lean in. The one who presses their lips together, just barely, before stepping away and into the front of the truck. The vehicle roaring to life soon after that while Akira is still attempting to process what just occurred.

And if Akira's voice is a little unsteady when he asks, "What was that?" Kusanagi acts like he doesn't notice.

"It's whatever you want it to be, Zaizen."

**Author's Note:**

> Idle universe related notes: There is one thing I reference in this fic, that is the most ridiculous coincidence between Shadowrun lore and Vrains, and that's the mention of research into creating a "perfect matrix entity". There was a throwaway plot hook in an old 2nd edition sourcebook that involved a doctor doing messed up experiments plugging kids (ones between the ages of six and twelve) into the big VR computer network and trying to raise them in there. So of course I brought it up in here. I had to.


End file.
